Chapter Three- Academy Years: Quick Reputations
Staring at the clear, computerized screen of my PADD, I read over the deep purple words and I think I've felt something I haven't felt in many years. Disbelief. I know I'm good, but I've only been in this class for a week. Looking up at the instructor, I fight the urge to shoot the man a glare as he stares at me with a curious gaze. I hate curiosity. Nothing comes of it except a bad headache and unanswered questions.
"You're transferring me to another class?" I question dully, staring back down at my PADD.
The instructor motions to the room around him, the other classmates staring at me with a mixture of admiration and jealousy. Humans and their petty emotions. It makes me sick how easily humans can be read.
"You've bested everything Basic Combat can teach you. Even in your assessment, you showed signs of being adaptable, but this whole course is spanned out through an entire semester. I have moved you to Advanced Combat. I fear that keeping you in this class may lead you to boredom," the man reasons, causing me to look up once more from my PADD.
Nodding, I gather my bag from the door and while reading the new information on the PADD, I make my way down the halls of the Academy. Strange. I've been here two weeks and I feel as though I may already be alienating myself from everyone around me. Finding the room, I enter, immediately seeing an older man dressed in training clothes showing human pressure points along the body of one of the students.
"May I help you, Cadet?" the instructor questions, his body language shifting from relaxed to an annoyed stance.
Instructor Wallace seems to be a bit of an ass. Looking over him and the other students, I realize I'm the only female in the room. Great, just what I need. Some arrogant, chauvinistic ass is the instructor of my class.
"Cadet McCloud," I reply calmly, ignoring the sudden interested looks from the men in the room, "Instructor Klacey placed an order of transfer to this class."
"Tell me, Cadet, what experience do you have in combat?"
Besides finding it easy to target a weakness and exposing it until the person is dead at my feet? "Nothing sir. I've never had formal training in combat, but Instructor Klacey says that I have already shown signs of completing the course in a very short time frame. He requested the transfer so I won't grow bored with the assignments."
"A cadet- with no training, is placed in my class- for Advanced Combat, and they expect me to believe that you- who has no training, is to succeed?" Wallace sneers, earning some chuckles from my fellow peers.
They really do know how to pick them here, don't they? "With all due respect, sir, I believe it is the instructor's job to help every student succeed, no matter the circumstance."
Wallace's stance shifts from arrogant to irritated in a very short time span, causing me to inwardly smirk. Humans are too easy to mess with. My gaze moves over the snickering students and I find one lone student, who seems only interested. Orient decent I'm sure, Japanese I think. He seems to be different than the others, his surrounding aura just screams silent confidence.
My assessment of the strange Japanese man is cut off as my senses scream at me to move, my back bending almost immediately. The sound of something cutting through air fills my ears as a fist passes through the open air where my head once settled. Instinct forces me to side step out of the way, my body turning with the movement before settling back into a defensive stance, my eyes fixated on Wallace. His body shifts to a fighting stance of his own and I tense slightly at the audience watching eagerly.
I carefully dip back once more, the palms of my hands deflecting a kick before I side step out of the way of a well aimed punch. Bending back, I pull my feet over my head as my hands touch the floor, successfully dodging the oncoming blows. Flipping, twisting and deflecting, I notice his aggravation growing, but a pattern starts to show the longer I keep going.
Round house. Follow through. Jab mid-section. Twist. Punch. Kick. Knee. Punch. Round house. Follow through.
Do humans know they do this? They gain a pattern of attack and stick with it. The only person I've seen mix it up in a fight is Jim, and that's because his personality is engraved into his fighting style. Brash, head-strong and unpredictable.
Deflecting a kick with my knee, I cock my left arm back and let it fly. There was no surprise when he catches the punch, but I seem to catch him off guard as I turn inward, underneath my extended arm. Twisting, I reach up and grip him with my other hand, using my foot to kick at the back of his right leg. Feeling his balance falter, I use very little strength to pull him into a simple Judo-style toss, his back hitting the mat. Feeling him release me, I back hand-spring away from him before settling into another stance, watching the anger appear on his face as he stands, brushing off his training uniform.
Like I said, humans are too easy.
I flash the pretty brunette before me a wolfish grin as I make my way down the hall. If there is one thing I learned at the Academy, it is that they have a wide selection of very beautiful women. And I do love my women. The pretty brunette in front of me has a pair of stellar deep brown eyes that I'm sure would look great hazed over with that lustful glint I love seeing in a woman's eyes. She is thin, her height allowing her to stand just a head under my height.
"Seriously? You've never had training before and yet you took out Wallace like he was nothing," a voice comments as I pass by a door that just opens.
"I swear, I've never had any sort of combat trainin' before," My body freezes at the familiar voice, the woman underneath my arm looking up at me in confusion, "An' Wallace shouldn't be teachin' the class if he can't follow the basic rule of never underestimatin' your opponent."
Glancing over my shoulder, my gaze falls on a familiar petite woman making her way out of one of the training rooms. Her thick black hair pulled back in a high ponytail, silver-violet eyes staring at the Japanese guy beside her. A familiar glint causes me to inwardly growl. She's interested. Over some random guy in a fighting class?
"Tch, what a little freak," I glance down at the woman under my arm, who stared at Kyra as well, "I've heard from my friend Raze that Cadet McCloud bested Instructor Klacey in the Basic Combat assessment test."
"You shouldn't talk about people like that," I state almost instantly, jumping to Kyra's defense, "Kam is amazingly adaptable when it comes to fighting. I'm not surprised she bested a teacher for Basic."
"From what Hikaru is saying, it sounds like she bested Wallace too, and he never accepts female cadets into his course," she whispers, ignoring my warning.
"Oi, keep talkin' 'bout me like I can't hear ye' an' ye' will be the next one I best," a thick, Irish-accented voice threatens in a bored tone, causing the woman under my arm to tense.
"I can't help I speak the truth," she sneers back at Kyra, who remains unaffected, causing the Japanese-kid beside her to snicker.
The Japanese-guy glances over at Kyra, "Hey, you said you've never been trained in fighting. Do you want to go hit the gym and I can give you some pointers? I know our course schedule has a wide variety of fighting style to learn and I can help you out if you want."
'Did he just ask Kam out? Who the hell does this fu-'
"I'd appreciate that, Hikaru. Maybe I can help ye' on your hand-to-hand."
My arm drops from the woman beside me and I know I'm staring at the pair in shock. Kyra HATES Humans. Why is she playing friends with one? Since when does she date? She's never dated anyone before. For all I know she's still a vi-
"Hiya, JT," Kyra greets softly, her exotic eyes softening as they always do when I'm around.
That alone makes me feel like a million credit chips, "Hey Kam, what's this about you beating up your instructors?"
Kyra shrugs and if she were human and capable of displaying emotions, I would have no doubt she'd be forcing an innocent look on her face, "Have no idea what 'nyone's talkin' 'bout. Apparently Instructor Wallace doesn't like bein' shown up at all, much less a student- an' a female one at that."
I chuckle slightly at her words, watching as Kyra's gaze falls onto the girl beside me, "Oh, Kam, this is Delna. Delna, this is Kyra and...um.."
Kyra motions to the Japanese man beside her, "This is Hikaru. He's the only student in the Advanced Combat class that is worth talking to. Hikaru, this is my friend, Jim."
Hikaru nods respectfully, glancing back at Kyra with that look that annoys me. Interest. I feel myself seeth at the sight of Hikaru's gaze moving over Kyra, who seems to be staring blankly at Delna. Looking over Kyra myself, I try to find out what caught Hikaru's interest. Sure, Kyra's petite form gives her a seductively curvy body. My gaze moves over Kyra's curves, the black training clothes clashing with her flawless pale skin. Her cold beauty is something most find intimidating, so what is it about her that has Hikaru staring at her so much.
"Hey, McCloud," Kyra's silver-violet eyes turn toward the Japanese man, "How about we meet up tomorrow? I have a free block around 0930."
Kyra's blank gaze looks Hikaru over before she gives him a nod, "That would be greatly appreciated, Hikaru."
"Awesome. It was nice meeting you, Jim," Hikaru states before waving nonchalantly, walking away from us.
Kyra's gaze lands on Delna, who shoots the bored-looking woman a glare, "JT, I'll see ye' later. I have Strategy and Logistics next."
Pilot courses? Kyra hates flying. Although she is one hell of a driver. I flash her a wide grin, receiving the softened gaze I enjoy seeing, before the woman turns and walks off. Throwing an arm around Delna, I stare down at the brown eyes, wondering where all of the previous attraction disappeared to.
"Hey, you're early," a familiar, Californian-accented voice greets, causing me to look up from my push ups.
Hikaru grins at me as I push myself up and into a seated position, my legs crossing each other, "Good mornin', Hikaru."
My morning took off after that. Hikaru ran through some subjects Advanced Combat goes through. All forms of Martial Arts: Kendo, Tai Chi, Karate, Judo, Jujitsu, Tae Kwan Do, and soon our training moves into more Modern Fighting Styles: Kick-Boxing, Street Fighting, Wrestling.
I catch the saber that flies through the air, my gaze moving along the long, thin silver blade, the blunted tip keeping any sort of wound from being inflicted. Although a simple stabbing in the eyes would definitely make for a killing blow.
"Fencing?"
A smirk is my only reply as his blade swipes through the air, my own blade moving to deflect the blow out of instinct alone. I flick my wrist around, bringing our blades apart from each other, my eyes focusing on Hikaru's movements. Moving into a defensive fighting style, I watch his movements, appreciation filling me as his movements seem more graceful and at ease than forceful. It's like watching someone dance.
I'm not sure how long it lasts as Hikaru and I dance around each other, our blows either glancing off of each other or always being deflected. He's good, that's for sure. He seems to realize I catch onto patterns quickly and I find excitement flow through my veins as he continues to change up his routine. A faint ringing sound fills the air between us, our blades locking together as we stand closer than I like.
"Damn, that's my alarm for my next class. Maybe we can pick this up some other time?" he requests, his brown eyes flickering with a sense of hope.
"No thanks," I reply, watching the hope disappear, "I'd prefer if we make this a weekly thing." His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "I like workin' out in the mornin' before classes. Ye' have an interestin' fightin' style an' I'd like to continue this meetin'."
"So, Tuesdays at 0930 every week?" he questions, to which I nod in agreement. A wide grin forms on his face, "You know, Kyra, you remind me of my little sister. She is a stickler for keeping to a schedule."
"Havin' someone like Jim gives ye' a reason to keep a schedule. Call me Ki-Ki," I reply, holding my hand out.
Shaking my hand, his grin softens to a warm smile, "Call me Ru-Chan. Yamina, my sister, calls me that all the time."
Ru-Chan? Humans and their languages. Is it so difficult to stick with one language to encompass an entire race? I watch as Hikaru exits the training room before gathering my things. He is definitely a strange human, but something tells me he'll make something of himself.
"Hello, Ki-Ki," I glance over my shoulder after exiting the training room, my gaze landing on Bones.
"Hiya, Leon," I greet softly as the older man falls into step beside me, "Ye' headin' to a class?"
"Nope, just leaving one. Jim tells me you joined Wallace's Advanced Combat class. I hear he's a bit of a pain in the ass," McCoy says, shifting the weight of his bag as we pass whispering Academy females, who giggle, their eyes on us.
Glaring at the two, I respond, "Aye, he is definitely an ass, but I find it rather intriguing."
"You are one strange woman, Kyra McCloud," McCoy says, chuckling as we turn down a hall, our paths coming to a break in our way.
'Ye' have no idea, Leon,' I think as we bid each other good bye and took our respective ways down the halls. 'Ye' have absolutely no idea.'
"Sounds like a plan, gorgeous," I say as I brush a strand of hair from Delna's face, tucking it behind her ear.
I smirk as her face breaks into a red flush. Women, so easily wooed, it's no wonder why they're seen as the weaker gender. I know Kyra would never blush so deeply, shit, I'm not even sure she knows how. Shaking my head of the thoughts, I place a kiss on the corner of her lips before turning and walking off.
"Smooth move, JT," a familiar voice comments with boredom, my gaze falling on Kyra, who stares at Delna. "I wonder how long it will take for her to realize she's standin' in the middle of the hall with a dumb look on her face."
"Jealous beautiful? You know you're the only woman out there for me, and if I can't have you, I'll just have to search the universe for someone who comes close enough to the real thing," I shoot back, flashing her the same grin I gave Delna.
A chuckle leaves my lips at the pointedly blank look I receive from my friend, "Ye' know what? Ye' happen to be one of the most annoyin' people in this entire universe. I'm sure ye will find someone to your standards."
A real laugh rumbles from my chest. No matter how many times we argue and banter like this, she is so quick to throw back a comment that most people don't know what hits them. Her silver-violet eyes flickers with a softening glint, but it disappears as she turns to walk away.
"Hey! Where are you going?" I ask, ignoring the looks of my fellow classmates as Kyra doesn't even bother stopping to reply.
"Studying. I suggest ye' do the same, Jim."
Studying? Glancing over at Delna, I smirk. I'd rather study some anatomy. Winking at Delna, I make my way down the hall, looking forward to the woman I'm going to be sharing company with Friday night.
Two months has passed since I started Wallace's Advanced Combat class and Wallace still likes to give me a harder time than others. He seems to dislike the idea of me besting most of his students. The only student that is even willing to pair up in a spar with me is Hikaru, and I still find him intriguing, his fighting style always changing up.
Through my training sessions with Hikaru, I find myself growing a slight attachment toward the Japanese man. He's always smiling, even in the midst of combat, and he talks often about his family. He has told me, on many occasions, that I remind him constantly of his little sister, who looks almost exactly like him.
As it is Friday night, I find myself sitting at a local bar, my gaze moving to the clock behind the bar. He's late. This is something I'm slowly growing accustomed to. Some nights, he doesn't even show. apologizing the next day.
"Ditchin' you again, Ki-Ki?" a cultured Southern-American voice interrupts my thoughts as I knock back another shot.
"Leon," I greet, toasting him silently with my next shot, "What are ye' doin' here in a place like this?"
A shrug is my only reply as McCoy takes the empty stool beside me, "You still show up every week, even when he isn't consistent?"
"It's always been tradition to celebrate the end of the week together. Ever since he's come to the Academy he's been changin'," I reply, not bothering to glance at the man beside me, "Aye, he's always been a Ladies Man, but he never allowed it to get out of hand so much so that he gains a bad reputation with it."
"And I take it, he's never broken plans with you before either?" McCoy asks as the bartender places a glass of scotch in front of him.
Shaking my head, I knock back another shot, having already lost count a long time ago, "I know he want to escape his father's shadow, but he's goin' 'bout it the wrong way."
A familiar inebriated laugh causes both of us to look up and turn in our seats, and sure enough, Jim is seated in one of the booths. Something twists in my gut as my gaze falls on the blonde woman hanging on him, her lips whispering something unheard to everyone but Jim. The painful sensation in my stomach intensifies as Jim dips down and catches the woman's lips with his own, their public display of affection gaining many cat calls from their surrounding audience.
Snatching the bottle of Jack Daniels from the bartender, I stand from my seat, knocking back my last shot. Slamming the shot glass onto the bar, I ignore the shattering sound that fills the air, mixing with the scent of blood. McCoy jumps up from his place next to me and I hand the bartender a credit chip before turning, bottle of Jack still in my hands.
"Kam?" I tense, my hand clenching into a fist, causing the glass to dig deeper into my palm.
Turning, I watch as my best friend flinches from the dead look I give him, "I'm sorry, but who are the hell are ye'?"
His eyes widen, "What? Kam, it's me, Jim. You're JT, remember?"
My blank gaze shifts into a glare as I narrow my eyebrows, "My JT? My JT never ditched me, let alone show up with someone else, with no intention of joinin' me for company. Now if ye' don't mind, Leon an' I have a date with Mr. Daniels."
Hooking my arm with McCoy's, I drag the doctor out of the bar and onto the street, ignoring the cool air blowing against my heated skin. Releasing my hold on McCoy, I wrap my lips around the neck of the Jack Daniels bottle, tilting my head back.
"Ki-Ki, that's not such a good idea, darlin'," McCoy states, taking the bottle from my hand.
Snatching it back, I glare at the doctor, "If I wanted to consult a doctor, I would be at a hospital. Right now, I'd just like to be in the company of some friends...if I have that is."
The bottle is taken out of my hands again, but this time McCoy toasts lazily, "Damn it, Ki-Ki, I'm a doctor, not a therapist."
"Ye' think I need locked up in a ward, too?" I question, watching the man before me smirk before his lips wrap around the neck of the bottle, gulping down his fair share.
"I think I can be that friend, if you want," McCoy says, his arm moving over my shoulders.
Glancing up at the stars, I nod, "Lets get out of 'ere. A bed sounds really nice at this point."
"Lets get out of 'ere. A bed sounds really nice at this point," the thick Irish accented voice whispers softly, my eyes watching the arm around her shoulder tighten, pulling the petite woman closer to McCoy's body.
"That does sound like a plan, Darlin'," Bones replies lazily, his Southern drawl seeping through his words as his brown eyes watch carefully as Kyra downs another gulp from the bottle.
My pursuit of them ends as I realize I need more than just an 'I'm Sorry' to fix this. She's right, as always. Fridays are our nights, and as of lately, I haven't exactly been the best friend she claims me to be. I know of my reputation, and I've always prided myself because Kyra's always stood up for me, telling people they don't even know me.
"Jimmy," I inwardly cringe at the nickname, glancing over my shoulder to the blonde, her eyes focusing on the retreating figures, "Oh. I see McCoy finally made his move."
"What are you talking about?" I ask, my shoulders tensing.
Her green eyes light up, "Oh, I've seen McCoy and McCloud around the halls, both of them always whispering and smiling at each other. I wonder if he knows about Hikaru and her 'training' sessions with him."
"You're telling me that Bones and Kam are...together?" I question, quirking my eyebrow.
"Does it look like they aren't? You saw them over at the bar. I bet they came together or at least planned to meet up. It can't be coincidence."
I've never believed in coincidences. Why didn't they tell me? Bed? Bed? Bones and Kam, in a bed? Together? Mental screams echo through my head as I fight to keep the building rage inside. Why didn't they tell me, damn it?
"Why don't we go find a bed of our own?" the blonde Kimi, or Kelly, or whatever her name is, offers suggestively.
Covering my anger up, I flash her a wide grin, "Sounds delightful."
Author's Note: Hey, sorry about the short wait, but my internet decided to be retarded. Anyway, during my absence of internet, I still continued writing and I find myself growing deeper into the future plot. Please understand that the next few chapters may seem confusing to you, but everything will become clear toward the climax of my story.
Please leave a review and tell me what you like, or what you don't like. I do want to hear from you readers. Thanks!